


Close Encounters (of the Woman Kind)

by slytherinslocket



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 15:46:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3255410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinslocket/pseuds/slytherinslocket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Bond was not easily surprised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Encounters (of the Woman Kind)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imbadwholf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imbadwholf/gifts).



> This is a small fic I wrote for the lovely Charlie. Since she was amazing enough to write something for me, I have decided to return the favor. :)

James Bond was not easily surprised. 

Therefore, when upon entering Q’s office he found not the Quartermaster wearing his usual cardigan and exasperated expression but instead a dark haired woman perched upon Q’s desk with one elegant eyebrow raised in his direction, Bond’s only response was to arch his brow in a similar expression. 

“Who are you? Where's Q?”

At Bond’s question the woman, clad in a figure hugging black dress and blood red stilettos, inspected her flawless nails as if they contained the answer to every question ever thought of and a few more than that.

“Oh, running this way and that. You double-oh’s keep that boy rather busy.”  
Ignoring his first question as to her identity, she lifted her gaze to Bond, eyes flashing over him quickly in a way that said he had been assessed and found intriguing enough to warrant further investigation. 

She rose from her seat on the only uncluttered area of Q’s desk and took a confident step in Bond’s direction. 

“Now, what brings you here?” She asked, sounding certain she already knew the answer. 

“I work here.” Bond deadpanned, though he mirrored her forward step. 

“Yes, I am quite aware of that, Mr. Bond.”

Bond did not start at her knowledge of his name, which only served to amuse her further. 

Another step, her heels clacking sharply against the stone floor. 

“However, employment at MI6 does not require visitation of Q’s office.” She smiled at him in a decidedly condescending way. 

“It does when I have to return equipment.”

It was his turn to take a step, further insinuating himself into her space, now close enough to touch though neither did so.

The woman threw her head back with delighted laughter. 

“You could have easily handed off the remnants of your equipment to any of Q’s delightful little minions.” Her gaze was unerringly sharp as she continued. “No, you came to see the man himself. Smitten, Mr. Bond?” She quirked her head to the side and flashed him a sickly sweet smile.

“Even if that were true, I fail to see how it is in any way your business.” The look he gave her could in no way be described as kind and yet the woman was not cowed. 

“Now, that is where you’re wrong, Mr. Bond. Q’s well being is very much my concern.” She took a final step towards him, her manner abruptly shifting from amused to threatening. “If I find that you have at all damaged that well being, you shall not enjoy the consequences.” 

He refused to show any discomfort. 

“I believe that Q is perfectly capable of harming me himself were I to hurt him in any way.” 

This, it seemed, was the correct answer for the woman leaned back slightly and smiled satisfactorily. Before she could speak, the office door opened and Q bustled in, arms filled with stacks of paper.   
“Irene-“ he stopped short upon the sight of Bond and the woman, Irene, who continued standing in close proximity. His jaw tightened as he glanced at them before he continued towards his desk, brusque as he pushed between the two. It was not until he had cavalierly dropped his papers on his desk that he looked at them. 

“I see you two have become well acquainted.” 

Bond heard a jealous edge in Q’s tone that he savored. 

“Based upon your history of failing to return my equipment, 007, I am going to assume that you brought back little to none of what I gave you.”

Bond pulled only a small earpiece, slightly singed but functional nonetheless, from his pocket and strode up to Q’s desk. 

“You would be correct.” He placed the ear pierce upon the pile of papers Q had previously strewn across the desk and flashed Q a charming smile that was received with a scowl. 

Perhaps sensing the tirade that Q was about to embark on, Irene circumvented Bond and walked directly behind the desk that remained a barrier between the two men. 

“Q, darling, I must go but I will see you tonight for dinner at eight. Kate is making meatloaf, so don’t be late because I’ll be irate if I have to suffer through that alone.” She reached up to ruffle Q’s hair in what seemed a familiar gesture. Q swatted her hand away, and growled half-heartedly. 

“I am not a child,” he protested. 

“And yet you remain entirely unable to properly groom yourself, baby brother.”

Fortunately, neither sibling was at that moment gazing in Bond’s direction and, therefore, the quick widening of his eyes went unnoticed. 

“Of course, if you must make other dinner plans do let me know, dear.” Now shifting her gaze to address Bond, she added, “Q enjoys Italian food and has a woeful lack of experience with French kissing. Perhaps you should tutor him.”

With a swift kiss to Q’s forehead and an imperious wave of her hand, Irene swept from the room. 

Once the door had snapped shut behind her, there was a silence that could only be described as astoundingly awkward. For a second it seemed as though Q would bolt from his own office. Instead, he stood stock still for a moment before uttering what sounded suspiciously like “fuck it”, stepping out from behind his desk and maneuvering himself directly in front of the double-oh agent. 

James Bond was not easily surprised, but he would have to admit that Q latching on to his tie and using it as an anchor by which to smash their mouths together in a sloppy, desperate, and utterly brilliant kiss, left him a tad astonished.

And, honestly, more than a tad aroused.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Hopefully, you enjoyed it!


End file.
